Spring never ceases to break my heart. 

Just a little bit.

Like getting near the end of a good book and feeling that small tug. Because you know the more you keep reading the quicker the book will be over and yet you just can't help yourself.

Or that moment, mid vacation, when the balance suddenly tips and you realize the time you have left is less than the time you've spent away.

It's bittersweet. 

And yet it is life.

A good thing, to be a good thing by it's very definition, can't go on forever.

Ot it would be status quo.

The brevity is what makes it worth savoring.

Spring in Wisconsin is brief.

Compared to the encompassing pall of winter, anyway.

You feel the change early on.

But it is subtle, slow, tiny.

An extra minute of daylight here.

A snatch of birdsong there.

A thaw that lasts. And then lasts. 

And then suddenly the grass is turning green and plants suddenly abound, waiting to be bought at nearly every store and the trees are all covered in the most beautifully fragrant blossoms and leaf buds...

And then it's summer.

Hot.

Busy.

Different.

We wait so long for Spring.

There is such a yearning and such a desire for it's return and all too quickly it's over.

So I really try to enjoy these days. And not hurry them along.

Because it will be a whole long year before they return. 

Today was finally and at long last a day to be spent outdoors.

And that's just what we did.

Mucking about in the gardens; raking, pruning, and digging.

We filled all the bird feeders, fixed the birdhouse, cleaned off the outdoor table and chairs and swept everything clean.

We were also able to get exciting and first hand glimpses of all the new, green, growing things springing to life all over our yard.

It is so rewarding to see.

Especially after the long, hard, endless winter. 

There were some moments when I must admit I wondered if anything could and would survive.

I think maybe we all wondered that.

But nature is much more resilient than I often realize.

Much more adaptable, too.

Not to mention faithful.

I suppose there are some sobering life lessons to be found in that...

A rainy April day, a cup of tea and a Rosamunde Pilcher book….things couldn’t get much better. 

But…wait…I have Tulips and Daffodils sprouting up all over my yard. 

It can get better!

Around here March is birthday central. 

And I have been involved in cake-making 3 of the last 4 weeks.

Which I don't mind. 

I LOVE baking.

But being completely unable to partake...?

Unable, even, to lick off a single spoon, spatula or finger......?

Well, sometimes that becomes just a little more than I can bear.

So I made a Paleo cake today. 

Just because.

And I used a new recipe. 

One which I am quite certain shall be making several more appearances in the not so distant future.

It's a keeper, in other words.

I included it below.

Plus the recipe for the frosting I decided on.

(I left out the cocoa nips/chocolate chips thus instead of cookie dough flavor it ended up as simply vanilla.)

So here's to my husband, my father, my daughter and my 2 brother in laws - Happy Birthday!

And, here's to chocolate cake, for no reason what so ever...

http://www.primallyinspired.com/perfect-chocolate-cake-grain-free-vegan/

http://brittanyangell.com/grain-free-cookie-dough-stuffed-donuts-glutennutdairy-free/

Six Candles

Here is E's birthday cake.

A truly lovely cake for a truly lovely little girl.

All day she danced around in purple glitter fairy wings and a bright flowered sun dress. And she was never without her tiara and her sequin wand.

Oh the joys of being six!!

It's your birthday. You are a princess. End of story.

The recipe for the cake is below. Not Paleo but gluten free. And dairy free when I substituted coconut whip cream for the regular stuff.

http://lifesafeast.blogspot.com/2013/07/hazelnut-meringue-cake-with-berries-and.html

A letter to my daughter on her sixth birthday.

 3.6.14

Time.

There have been periods in your unfurling, blossoming little life that it has gone so slow. 

Too slow.

Unending morning sickness slow. 

Preeclampsia slow. 

I can’t do this anymore slow. 

Then there were the nights of colic and fevers and stomach flu that seemed to last days. 

There were the screaming fits and public tantrums that I swear played out in slow motion. 

There were the battle weary phases of potty training and sleep training and time outs I was pretty sure might never end.

And yet time, unheedful and unmindful, ticked steadily on. 

And now quite suddenly I find so slow and too slow have somehow become astoundingly fast.

And I can not keep up with the ways you change and grow and need me just a little bit less each and every day.

What can I teach you, while I still have the time, I wonder? What do I know? That 2+2 is 4. That the world is round. That caterpillars turn into butterflies. 

Can that be enough? Must I also teach you about loss? And heartache? And fear?

They are, after all, a part of life. The part I would spare you from were it in my power and yet…

I would not know about those three things as intimately and as searingly as I do, without you.

Because they are the flip side of love and without you I would not know love. 

Love -out of nothing, love. 

Love -I’ve never laid eyes on you before and you can’t even say a single word to me and I don’t think I know how to but yet I can’t escape it, love. 

And it changes everything. Even the perception of time.

So my darling child, today you are six. 

Tomorrow…? 

Well, perhaps I will turn around and tomorrow you will be 26. Or so it might seem. I hope not. But if that is the case I pray you know that 2+2 is 4. That the world is round. That caterpillars turn into butterflies. And that I have loved you every second of every minute of every day of your life.

I wandered lonely as a cloud

That floats on high o'er vales and hills,

When all at once I saw a crowd,

A host, of golden daffodils;

Beside the lake, beneath the trees,

Fluttering and dancing in the breeze.

Continuous as the stars that shine

And twinkle on the milky way,

They stretched in never-ending line

Along the margin of a bay:

Ten thousand saw I at a glance,

Tossing their heads in sprightly dance.

The waves beside them danced; but they

Out-did the sparkling waves in glee:

A poet could not but be gay,

In such a jocund company:

I gazed--and gazed--but little thought

What wealth the show to me had brought:

For oft, when on my couch I lie

In vacant or in pensive mood,

They flash upon that inward eye

Which is the bliss of solitude;

And then my heart with pleasure fills,

And dances with the daffodils. 

William Wordsworth